Treasure Island

Matthews Welschire


Pragmatist, Gandhi, and Veal


You, my pest. You who hold entire history of my past -
landscape of my soul's pace, the ping-ponged echo
of parking garage voices

while
somewhere a sneeze cures cancer
instead of creating a hurricane...

And late in that same day (before it closes)
sitting calmly,

I weep.
Eating veal with the smiling,
ravenous and bespectacled ghost of Gandhi

Submitted: Friday, September 13, 2013
Edited: Saturday, September 14, 2013

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